


repeating history

by beekathony



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Aubrey Hall, Bees, F/M, Family, Other, panicked!anthony, stupid bees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beekathony/pseuds/beekathony
Summary: Mary Bridgerton, age five, is stung by a bee. Anthony panics as fear takes over his every thought.
Relationships: Anthony Bridgerton/Kate Sheffield
Comments: 18
Kudos: 142





	repeating history

**_1835_ **

Anthony turned his face up to the sky, letting the bright rays of the sun warm him. He found peace in the silence that the English countryside provided. In the years since his marriage to Kate, they had spent more months out of the year at Aubrey Hall than in London. His own childhood was filled with memories of this place, mostly happy ones, later tinged with sadness as the years went by.

It was in these very gardens that he realized he loved Kate. It was the very bench his wife now sat on, years later that had brought their fates together.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he thought of that afternoon. Stung by a bee. Of course, he had only been trying to save her life! Anthony shivered slightly at the thought of what might have happened if his own mother, accompanied by Kate’s mother and Lady Featherington had not seen them together.

His wife tilted her face to the sun, much as he had done just moments earlier. Anthony loved to watch her, he could do it for hours and never grow bored. Even in all the years they had been married, Anthony noticed something new about her nearly every day. This morning he had found a small dark freckle just behind her left ear, and he spent ten minutes worshipping that very spot with his tongue.

“Daddy!” Came a small, high pitched voice to his left, shaking him out of his observance of his wife.

“Yes, darling?” He bent down, opening his arms to embrace his youngest daughter, Mary.

“Edmund and Miles said I cannot play with them in the lake,” she pouted, sticking out her bottom lip quite cutely.

Their oldest sons were now twenty, and eighteen. Mary, who had come along as a surprise to both Anthony and Kate was just a small thing of five. Anthony knew from his own experience as an older brother that young men did not often want their siblings around. If his sons were anything like himself and his brothers, there was no doubt that they were talking of things no child should overhear.

“I am sorry, sweetie,” Anthony pinched her cheek gently. “I’m sure that Charlotte will play with you if you ask her nicely.”

Charlotte had just turned thirteen, and was already talking of attending her first ball. The thought gave Anthony nightmares, and he did his best to avoid entering into that conversation. Thankfully, Kate was able to steer Charlotte’s attentions towards other things that a young lady of her age should focus on.

“She is picking flowers over there,” Mary pointed in the distance where Charlotte was singing to herself as she inspected the garden. In that way, their first born daughter took after Kate. His wife loved flowers, especially tulips since they were the first bouquet of flowers Anthony had ever given her.

“Run to her then,” Anthony gave her a small squeeze and sent her towards Charlotte.

He often wondered if they should have another child, only so that Mary had someone closer in age she could bond with. Thankfully, Mary had a multitude of cousins similar to her age that she entertain. The Bridgerton clan was quite a large one now that all of his siblings had started to reproduce.

Anthony walked over towards Kate and took his place next to her. He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her to rest into his side.

“Should we have another?” He asked.

Kate scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Anthony, I am two and forty years of age. The mere thought of having a child at my age gives me hives. And you are much older than me, how could you possibly think of having another?”

To be fair, he was nine years older than Kate, and definitely past his prime of having children. They had barely just gotten past the early wake up calls from screaming babies. But, there was something so beautiful about seeing Kate with child, and then holding a babe in her arms.

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “My own mother was seven and thirty when she had Hyacinth. Which is already an incredible risk for a woman to continue to bear children. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.” Anthony kissed her forehead, catching a whiff of lilies and soap on her skin as the wind blew.

“I have given you four beautiful children,” Kate slid her arm around his waist. “If it’s a baby you want, you have only to wait several more years before a grandchild enters the picture.”

“Oh God,” Anthony went white at that. “I daresay you are right. But that makes me feel incredibly old.”

Kate laughed, patting his taut stomach. “We are old my dear, very old indeed.”

They sat in companionable silence, enjoying the spring afternoon. The birds chirped, and the flowers bloomed. Anthony was content with his lot, and wanted nothing to change. He couldn’t imagine a life without his family, nor did he want to. He let his eyes flutter shut, and his mind was transported back to this very garden more than twenty years ago.

As he relived those wonderful memories, Anthony was startled to hear a chilling scream in the distance.

His eyes shot open, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized the direction of the scream.

“Mary!” He shouted, rising from the bench. “Charlotte!”

Anthony raced towards his daughters, followed closely by Kate on his heel.

Turning the corner, past a bush of roses, Anthony saw Mary on the ground, clutching her arm as Charlotte stood over her.

“What has happened?!” He shouted, falling to his knees. Anthony looked into Mary’s eyes, searching for signs of pain. “Mary, oh Mary, are you okay darling?”

“It was a bee, father,” Charlotte said, tears filling her eyes. His children knew how his own father had died — a mighty bee sting.

Kate gathered Charlotte into her arms, clutching tight.

“Daddy,” Mary cried. “It hurts!”

“She will be alright,” Kate said to Charlotte, but Anthony knew mostly to him.

Anthony tried not to panic, but the dread that rose up from the innermost depths of his soul threatened to escape. For years he had been able to squash these fears, but as he watched his daughter lay on the ground, clutching at her arm, Anthony simply fell to pieces.

Moments later, their sons ran to them, both out of breath.

“We heard a scream,” Edmund said as he joined his father on the ground. “Is she hurt?”

“A bee sting,” Anthony said through his frantic tears. “We should get her inside and send for a doctor right away.”

“I’ll go,” Miles said and took off towards the house to find an available carriage.

With all the care in the world, Anthony lifted Mary into his arms and took her into the house. She cried against his chest, the sound of her sobs breaking his heart one by one.

Anthony was a rational man — most of the time — and he was quite sure Mary would be perfectly fine. After all, most people who were stung by a bee lived to tell the tale. But Anthony could not push away that voice in the back of his mind telling him otherwise.

Kate sat with Charlotte on the divan in their drawing room, her arms wrapped tightly around her. Anthony wanted to tell her that everything would be fine, but he couldn’t find his voice.

“We were picking flowers,” Charlotte sniffed. “I did not even see the bee before Mary started to scream.”

“It’s okay my darling,” Kate soothed her. “The bee was probably startled. Mary will be just fine, no more than a big red bump on her arm.”

Anthony glanced at Kate, trying to find hope in her calm words. She gave him a reassuring smile, but he saw the panic reflected in her eyes.

“Daddy?” Mary sniffed.

“Yes, sweetie?” Anthony pushed her dark curls off her forehead.

“Am I doing to die like your papa?”

At this very moment, Anthony cursed himself for ever telling his children how his own father had died. It had struck fear into his own heart, and now he had struck fear into the hearts of his children.

“No, no, no,” Anthony shushed and bent to kiss her cheek. Then he took her arm that had been stung and placed a gentle kiss just above the sting. “It is nothing but a sting, my dear. You have nothing to fear. I am here, and I will take care of you.”

Anthony could not have saved his father, but he would be damned if he would let harm come to his own child.

Several minutes passed by, which felt like hours to Anthony before Miles returned with the local physician.

“Here they are,” Miles ran in, panting.

“She was stung by a bee, doctor,” Anthony said, allowing the physician to look at the sting.

The old man lifted Mary’s arm gently and inspected the large red welt.

“A nasty sting for sure,” the doctor said. “But I have got just the thing.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a small brown jar and a cotton pad. He dabbed a small bit of ointment onto the pad and rubbed it gently onto Mary’s arm. “She will be right as rain in a couple of days. She won’t even have a scar.”

“Are you very sure, doctor?” Anthony asked, watching as the man began to stand up to leave. It could not be as simple as that.

“Quite sure,” the man nodded. “The child will have a sore arm, but nothing more.” He looked down at Mary, “Watch out for the little creatures next time young one,” he winked and moments later left the room.

“Well,” Kate took a deep breath. “What a frightful afternoon.”

Anthony stood up, his hands on his knees. “My words exactly.”

Edmund and Miles took Mary upstairs to her room, with promises of playing dolls for hours and hours. Charlotte gave Kate a tight hug before following after them.

Anthony stood frozen in place, and Kate came to him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“When Mary asked if she would die…”

“I know,” Kate squeezed him. “I did not realize she understood so clearly how your father had died.”

“Nor did I,” Anthony kissed the top of her head. “My heart has not stopped racing since I heard her screams. If something had happened—“

“But nothing did,” Kate interrupted, and put her finger over his lips. “Anthony, I know you, and I know your mind. Please do not dwell on the morbid possibility. We had a scare this afternoon. Do not allow this day to bring back fears you have long buried.”

Anthony knew she was right, as Kate was always right.

“I think I shall go about the garden and rid it of bees,” Anthony sighed, laughing as he saw Kate smile.

“If it helps you sleep at night, dear one,” Kate kissed his chin. “Come, let’s go and see our grown sons playing with dolls. That will amuse you.”

“I daresay it will,” Anthony took her hand and they climbed the stairs to find their children.

History had not repeated itself on this day, and Anthony was glad for it. There was nothing like the scream of one’s child to strike fear into one’s heart. That night, he would close his eyes and count his blessings that his daughter was spared. And he would think of his father, Edmund, and say a prayer for him too.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> follow me on twitter @threadofgoldenn and tumblr @bee-kathony


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